


The Half-Space of You and I

by CommonSenseisPaineful



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Pining, cold nights warm heart, happy endings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-11
Updated: 2016-11-11
Packaged: 2018-08-30 10:54:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8530291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CommonSenseisPaineful/pseuds/CommonSenseisPaineful
Summary: Thomas lived in this strange half space, shadows and clouds in bottles. The golden light and the freezing night.--Short fic of a cold night in New York, how Thomas Jefferson spies and just how he ends up.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I've been taking a break for a couple days with being busy and all the that has been going on. Expect to see more this weekend. Thanks for all the support, all comments are appreciated!  
> Enjoy!

Thomas lived in the strange half-space between the noise and the silence.

With his back to the bars entrance, he could feel the golden glow from many candles emanating in long cast shadows. The fuzz of the socialising atmosphere was almost like clouds in a jar- pressing against every faucet and cranny to escape into the cold night air. Vibrations from stamping feet, sliding cups and cheers echoed in the hollow of his chest. Breathe.

The night was quiet, his breath condensed in the air slightly as the cold crept up his legs. The contrast was the same feeling as missing a step on a flight of stairs. His hands felt a little numb as he rubbed hem together, silently cursing that he left his gloves behind.

It wasn't that Thomas was suffocated from the bar, but he had felt the tightening in his chest with caution and took a break before the grip could turn vice-like. Stars flecked the night sky like white paint, they were the same stars he would gaze up in Monticello. The same sky.  
Even that gave him comfort, the green fields and budding trees. It was always his home, distant but his home nonetheless. Monticello was so emerald in the summer sun, the way the grasses would bend in the wind like waves was borderline enchanting, let alone how the corn stalks swayed under the strain of light green husks that would swell soon enough into the golden corn. Even in winter the tiniest hints of jade still lurked under a coat of frost- ivy and moss that would encircle glass windows like duvets.

Peering back through the dirty windows Thomas saw figures bent around tables or struggling in their feet with mugs in hand. His breath fogged up the window until it was all an effervescent blur. The grime and condensation stuck to his fingers as he rubbed at the glass for a clearer view. He scanned the jovial faces and laughing men, eyes narrowing through his little peephole. There, tucked away in a booth- a small green figure cupped his hands around his glass earnestly. Thomas found himself smiling as the man nodded along to some of the familiar songs, how he occasionally pushed back the rebellious stands of hair that covered his eyes. The window didn't do his eyes justice, he thought, straightening himself slightly against the cramp in his legs. Those eyes with a spark enough to light canons, to burn down palaces and to kindle like flint and steel. Those eyes had consumed him, leaving him totally absorbed in their movements to barely notice how the smaller man would fluster and turn a shade of pink as he spoke. His head was rested against the door frame, thick dark curls in all directions. Thomas ran a thumb over his lips as he watched him rise and walk away to the bar. He would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy how the smaller mans trousers dressed in just the most irritatingly of ways- how he would flex his shoulders and could see the protruding shoulder blades under the emerald coat. He wondered just what he would do given the chance to see whatever was under that veil of jade. A dangerously warm sensation rose from his throat- Thomas coughed and let his gaze wander back to the stars to quell the heat that defied the cold night.

Even the streets were quiet, faint moonlight shone of the cobbled pavements- but the darkness crept around the corners of rooftops and swallowed everywhere the sky didn't touch. Thomas felt safer slipping between the inky shadows, reemerging into the silver to watch his shadow dance along the street.

The bar door opened softly into the alley, coating the ground with a glittering amount of gold paint as a figure stepped out into the darkness. Thomas darted around a corner, gripping at the bricks as the light footstep followed his trailed path. The stranger passed Thomas seemingly unaware of his presence as they hummed absentmindedly. He watched a little, then taking a few anxious steps sideways he began his escape into a side-street. His feet were faint, taking care not to alert the man, Thomas breathed a little more easily as he took his first step into a other shadow.

"Thomas?"

He froze, eyes wide as that familiar voice accompanied by the approaching footsteps stole the breath in his lungs- practically leaving him gasping as he faced those bright eyes again.  
"Hamilton I didn't expect to-"

"Thomas did you really think I wouldn't notice how you follow me to the same bar every night?"

Three realisations hit him in that moment.  
The first being that Alexander Hamilton was not only conversing with him in a friendly manner- but was perhaps even being so full of implication with his tone.  
The second that Hamilton even KNEW Jefferson would follow him to the bar he frequented. It was a best kept secret, one not even Madison was privy to. One he would tuck away in a corner of his heart when his mind seemed to full and his bed too empty. Had he been too obvious? What had given him away?  
The third that Alexander so openly used his name- Thomas. He liked how he said it, no he revelled in how Hamilton had so obviously enjoyed using the name instead of Jefferson. The sparks lit something inside him, burning hot and fast in the thumping rhythm of his chest.

"Perhaps I could have been more discreet then Hamilton. I had not understood you were so observant."  
His charm still worked, although this brain was processing this at a million miles but not comprehending it fast enough. His eyes widened even more as the smaller man stood a little closer and looked up a Thomas through big eyelashes.

"Alexander."

"Alexander..." Thomas whispered, not being able to conceal his stutter, "So observant."

He emerald-clad man smirked a little, practically on his toes and almost certainly finding amusement in the flush in the taller mans face.

"I've seen many things Thomas, though I can certainly say a shy Thomas Jefferson is not one I'm most familiar with."

Alexander's hands ran up Thomas's arms, resting in his stiff shoulders. They were warm, heat practically radiated from the man. Thomas felt the street was lighter in his presence, the edges of the world blurred away until it was just him and this sunlight.

"Alex, I-"  
Thomas was cut off as Alexander pulled him down closer while simultaneous in tip-ties himself. His mouth was so soft as it pressed against his with such a fervent need he felt he would burn. His body was all sparks, blinding light with no substance. Despite his height he felt like collapsing under the passion of it all. It was only until the feeling was replaced by a burning sensation in his lungs did the two pull away- gulping at the frozen air as it washed over swollen lips.

"Next time, drink with me asshole."

Thomas stood there, quite honestly a little stunned as Alex hurried down the silver lined streets. He brushed fingertips against his lips, feeling the blood rush to his cheeks humiliatingly. He felt the treacherous smile grow across the corners of his mouth, shaken feet finding their steps back home. Next time, Thomas thought as he flicked aside the loose curls from his face, next time.


End file.
